Zinny agrees with the plan, somewhat reluctantly, and scoots along with the others to hide behind the wall. Her sweaty hands grip her club nervously.
The party sets off for the vineyard at dusk and gets into position just as the light fades. It doesn't take long before the commotion starts...
Tomid, whistle in his mouth, hides quietly until he hears the commotion. Then he slowly moves his head up and peers over a low spot in the wall, trying to look like part of the rocks.
The party hears a loud crash, like dropping a big rock off a small cliff.
The rock eventually collides with the wall near the broken section - you are far enough away to not be caught by any of the flying stones. The giant stone wheel is stopped by the wall; the goblins continue to be harassed by the lights as they stop by the wheel, panting and huffing. You see, now that they have stopped, that they are dressed entirely in hot pink furs. As they start to roll the stone back up the hill, the ground is suddenly covered in a slippery substance and the goblins slip and fall, causing the wheel to roll back into the wall. The laughter spikes again as they slip and slide over each other, but you can not determine where the laughter is coming from.
Zinny don't see beans or bupkiss. She continues to nervously wait.
Hugo looked up as the stone rolled into the wall with a loud crashing sound. It took all his willpower not to get up emideatly and start charging at whatever was making the sound "Little Tom-tom aint usin' da wissle yet."
Silas greatly enjoyed dinner, talking for what time he could with Burrbarr about the quality of the onions and potatoes, discussing what measures he takes to get more sweetness than earthiness in the carrots, and other topics of agricultural interest. It's a good way to maybe get more than a single glass of wine!
Under normal circumstances, Silas would draw into himself and just wait for something terrible to happen, not putting himself into any danger at all. But in the moonlight, Abigail's skin looks like it was bathed in buttermilk. And she smells so...delightful. Zinny's not far off from impressionably cute and even Grizelda might be worth a romp in the hay with the right thickness of burlap sack.
"I," he announces, quietly, "hear nothing. I'll get closer."
He draws the short sword from it scabbard and lurches into the vines. That wasn't his intent, but one minute he's on the path and the next he's in the vineyards, headed towards the wall, moving about five feet to the right for every fifteen feet forward, thus winding up somewhere between Tomid and the pile of grapes. Surprisingly stealthy, he, like Tomid, peeks up over the edge of the wall.
Hugo sat for several seconds after Abigail mentioned giggling, before reacting with a surprised look.
"Gigglin'? Gobbos be gigglin? Not dat I 'ave evah seens a Gobbo, but I dun tink dey giggle. Dun dey more like, I dunno, shriek or sumting?" He really wasnt sure at all, but there had been gobbos in one of the stories for sure.
When Silas suddenly decided that bravery was something he possessed, Hugo shot the others a nervous glance. He wasnt much of a judge of character, but he knew an inebriated man when he saw one. More then a moment ago, the urge to follow came to the fore, this time enough to make him stand up and take a few steps after Silas before stopping and turning back to the others.
"'ey, wat do wes do now?"
As you stand hunched over behind the wall and watching the spectacle, you hear a voice from right behind you yell "BOO!!!" and you are pinched in the butt.
"My, my, Abby, getting fresh are we...?" he inquires, and turns around to see whatever he sees.
Tomid, trying to be even smaller that normal, and rocklike too, begins to count the goblins. Part of good recon. Know the numbers of enemy. he tells himself.
Hearing the stumbling Silas behind him he inwardly cringes, sure that the man, who is more than twice as loud/obvious as Tomid, will give them both away any second now. Follow the plan. he thinks at Silas, but it seems to be too late. He stays hidden in the shadow of the wall and now watches both sides.
"Brother Silas!" Zinny squeaks in startled worry when Silas takes it on himself to lurch off into the vines. She shares a stricken look with those around her, wringing her hands yet again.
Oh lord, they ought to grab him... but the thought of putting her hands on the PRIEST-- why, that's-- that's-- mighty disrespectful. Nono, she'd no sooner be able to grab Erastil himself.
Hugo's question of what do they do now perfectly mirrors her own thoughts. She stares wide-eyed out into the dark, waiting orders or clues from a more level head.
Over the next few minutes after the loud crash, the screaming you heard stopped, but now everyone can hear the giggling and laughing sounds, along with a few goblin-voices clearly trying to call out commands.
Silas... oh heavens forbid. What is going on over there?
The alchemist puts a quarrel in his crossbow. His hands are visibly shaking. It takes an effort but after a few seconds he forces them to be still.
I am sure that had they found Tomid, we would have heard something. We should wait a moment more.
Grizelda peeks around, trying to figure what the commotion, screaming and laughing is all about.
Never breaking stealth, Tomid sneaks back to the group and explains all he saw, including his goblin count. [ooc]How many did he count?[/b]
Something was egging 'em on, and at the same time hampering 'em. Strange ta watch. The whole time it was like they was under attack by somethin' that only wanted to pester 'em. I think they don't like the wall and are using the wheel to try to break it. I say we repair it in the morning and see how they react to it. Any idea what was causing all the magic and laughing and all?
Once the whole lot of them are gone, Silas stumbles through the vines, squashes a few grapes underfoot, picks a handful fresh from the vine and pops them into his mouth, and finally emerges back in front of Grizelda and company. He sheathes his blade. "Aaaah...you know, it reminded me an awful lot of a parade. A parade of goblins. Very scared and angry little goblins whose wardrobes kept changing to bright colors. They were being pestered by these floating motes of light...and yes, that crash was a stone they've been rolling downhill to try to smash the wall open. Why they left, I don't know..."
He lifts an index finger and then it curls to point at Grizelda. "I believe I verified your theory! When going through the grapevines, I could have sworn I was goosed by someone. Turns out, it was only my imagination, but I know that even my imagination isn't that active. So I assume magic," he says, with a widening of his eyes and a wave of his hand.
Zinny looks beyond bewildered at Silas and Tomid's recounting of what they saw.
"A parade? Breakin' the wall down? Bright colors?" she echoes perplexedly. "Why'd monsters wanna break down th' wall? ...I guess just cuz they're monsters..."
"Maybe they know how good the wine is." He squints over at one of the piles of grapes. "At first I thought they had piled those grapes, but they still seem to be trying to get over the wall...so maybe the grape piles are a part of whatever magic I felt being worked."
There is a whole army of them goblins. I mean more than 8. He does a quick count of his group. That's more than we got. Plus they got those light motes that do stuff. We can't fight that many enemies all at once. I am sneaky brave, not combat brave.
Grizelda listens to Tomid and Silas recount their observations, scribbling like mad. She puts the nib of her pen between her teeth and looks pensively over her notes and leaves a dark spot of ink right between her front teeth when she puts it to the paper again. When Silas exclaims he experienced an attack she clenches her fists and growls in frustration, "Ohhh! I knew I should have snuck along with you. I couldn't see any of that from here... Hmmm... I think perhaps we should head back to the bunkhouse to discuss this..." Her voice drops to a whisper. "Lest we be overheard." She cuts her eyes suspiciously at the greenery nearby and begins to head back toward the bunkhouse.
Zinny nods, solemn and wide-eyed, at Grizelda's conspiratorial Lest we be overheard!
Gosh, Grizelda sounds so ~knowledgeable~.
She tromps along back with the others, keeping an eye on Brother Silas and his wobbly gait. If he needs a hand to keep him on the path she'll... well, she won't touch him, still-- he's the PRIEST-- but she'll maneuver around to corral him back to the path.
Back at the bunkhouse, Zinny hunches in a chair with her hands resting on the end of her big stick.
"So what're we dealin' with? They got themselves a sorserr? Is that's what's makin' all the lights?"
Assuming the group agrees to withdraw, once they are somewhere protected, Grizelda paces back and forth, speaking her thoughts aloud to the room.
"Strange this... Goblins plaguing a Gnome's plantation isn't hard to imagine with the racial tensions on both sides... But could the Goblins merely be the tools of something else? Something cowing them with magic? They are certainly superstitious about the Art, but then that could be said of the farm hands as well... Hmm... What would want to see the wall destroyed and also has magical ability such as this? Did you see anything other than 'motes of light' that might give us a clue as to what was directing them? The farmers reported being grabbed by the vegetation. Could that have been what pinched you, Brother Silas?"
"I don't think it was, but to be fair, when I turned around I didn't see anything at all, not even the rustling of the vine to indicate that the vegetation was animated."
He digs one of the grapes he'd yoinked from a vine out of his pocket and stands up, walking around the bunkhouse. With his two front teeth, he slowly peels the skin from the grape and nibbles on the pulpy, juicy insides in thought. As the group discusses, he attempts to recreate the hillside down which they paraded, placing small objects down on the table where trees would have been in and around their "parade path" and where they rolled the stone down into the side of the wall. After he has down so, he lays down a handful of grapes to represent the goblins and kind of rolls them along, looking for a place where there was a sturdy tree nearby.
"I don't know why they are doing what they are doing, but if they make a habit out of this path they take, we could tie a large enough triggered net to catch them all up, and then put them in a cart and take them miles and miles away from here."
For demonstrative purposes, he lays down a kerchief on the table next to a shoehorn that is meant to resemble a tree. He rolls the grapes over the kerchief and then bundles the kerchief up suddenly, catching them all inside.
Tomid listens to the discussion but then shakes his head and puts forth the idea that has been building there for a while. At first I was thinkin that those there goblins was unsin that big stone wheel as a kind o' batterin ram. You know to bust up the wall and such. But that don't really make no sense 'cause they can just scramble over the wall if they wants to. No. Its there wheel all right, but they didn't set it to rolling down the hill and was none to happy to have it getting away from them. Somethin about it, maybe them runes carved into it was 'portant to them goblens and they was all upset about loosin it. They calmed down a bunch when they got it back and was able to roll it up the hill again. So whatever was pesterin them goblins and flashin the lights and changin the colors was what set that wheel a rollin. That is the enemy here, an not those poor goblins. They seem ta be scared of loosin the wheel cause of the runes on it. Say don't some goblins think part of their souls get put into writin stuff down?
Zinny is fascinated by Silas's small-scale model of the vineyards, watching and listening to the others. Her brows furrow at the way Grizelda and Tomid speak.
Shyly, she raises a hand. If anyone gives her leave to speak, she will duck her head respectfully at Grizelda.
"I ain't mean to argue with you none, cuz you know all about 'em an' I don't, but... well...
"Goblins is pretty scary to me, no 'ffense meant. Mayhap Tomid's a sight braver'n me. Every story I've ever heard they're evil an' they light people's farms on fire and kill dogs an' steal babies an' eat, you know, people flesh an' all. I dunno if they th' only threat here or not, mayhap there's somethin' else makin' th' lights an' all, but....
"...but I'm awful worried about th' goblins too. I ain't just want to go 'oh them poor critters' or nothin' 'bout 'em. I bet you they'd still cut our throats easy as anythin' if they saw us."
After this considerably wordy speech from her, Zinny ducks back into her corner, red-faced at having said so much.
I for one agree with Zinny. The goblins might only want to save their rock but their very presence is a danger to everyone working here. They need to go. And I have no idea how we'll make that happen. Silas, your plan has some good parts to it, but i have no idea how you plan on pulling off a trap this big. Maybe we can convince whoever is behind those lights to move that stone far away from here.
In the silence that follows Zinny's opinion about goblins - one that the priest doesn't fault her for at all! - Silas just offers a warm and toothless smile, his eyelids a little on the heavier side. "We wouldn't let any harm come to you, Zinnia." The plural personal pronoun is almost suggestively the singular I.
When Tomid and Doc have their input, Silas mulls it over. What Tomid has seen does add an angle to this no one had considered. "Well, with a little hard work and some elbow grease," he answers Doc, but then lays a hand on the table. "But Tomid's onto something. And Doc, I think...I think we can move that stone. Just get our hands on it and throw it on a cart and take it far from here. Maybe find where the goblins keep it and move it out of there while they're sleeping?"
Tomid looks a little worried. You mean in the daylight, right Abi? No sense going out there at night, right?
Grizelda listens to each of the group in turn, blinking at them and wincing slightly at the butchering of the common tongue and making notes.
"The only thing that is clear is that we do not have enough evidence to reach a conclusion. Everything else is speculation. Miss Westbrook's suggestion seems the best course of action to me. The question is, do we go now or wait until morning?"
Wait 'til mornin. That's an easy one. Tomid looks to the others hoping to see confirmation.
"Thassa bright idea, Abby," Zinny says, beaming. She offers Brother Silas a sheepishly grateful smile at his bold promise not to let her come to harm (thinking all the while that if he's gonna go drinkin', it might be her or Hugo who has to keep HIM from comin' to harm).
"Mornin' for sure, miss Grizelda. I don't wanna trip around in th' dark an' land on Tomid or nothin'. An' if we go carryin' any torch they might see us comin' for miles, you know?"
So unless otherwise noted, we'll go with a morning departure. The good news is farmers wake up pretty early, and there is a hot and hearty breakfast prepared before the sun is even above the horizon. You can eat and be on your way at first light.
The group leaves at first light for the break in the wall and to follow the tracks of the goblins from last night.
Grizelda nods in agreement with those requesting a morning departure,
"Very well then, it has been a long and trying day after all and we'll all need adequate rest for the equally trying day tomorrow. Good night and sleep well." And she proceeds to her bunk without another word.
Grizelda opens a nearby window, to allow Gregor to come and go as he pleases, hunting rodents and keeping watch.
She sleeps in the same scholar's robes she wears, only doffing her sturdy shoes and removing the feathers from her hair, letting loose her stringy brown, uncombed locks before climbing under the covers and quickly settling into a nasal, whistling snore.
When she rises, she pulls a modest looking leather-bound tome from her pack and studies it for a full hour before restoring her hair to it's usual messy bun pinned with Gregor's shed feathers and donning her shoes. She is quiet and thoughtful over breakfast and eager to get back to the task at hand.
1st— Color Spray(DC 15), Enlarge Person(DC 15), Mage Armor
0-(at will)— Daze(DC 14), Detect Magic, Prestidigitation (DC 14)
When she arrives at the damaged wall she mutters an incantation and turns her penetrating gaze this way and that scanning the area thoroughly with Detect Magic, while Gregor snoozes on her shoulder.
Trudging along besides Abi, Hugo continued being silent, having had little to add the previous night, mostly spending his time just trying to keep up with everyones train of thought during the discussion. Now, trying to follow the goblin trail, he was too concerned with keeping a lookout for trouble to spare much thought to topics of conversation for small talk. Abis words did however spark a smile.
"Huehuehue, "Gaggle", dat sounds funny."
Turning the word over and over in his head, his amusement got the better of him. For the next long stretch of their walk he could be heard sniggering to himself, occationally repeating the word, at which point he would giggle again.
Preoccupied with the hilarity of it all, Hugo completely forgot to pay attention to his surroundings.
Silas rolls out of bed the following morning with mussed hair and a terrible case of cottonmouth. Although he's evaded a headache, he hits the breakfast table quickly and horse-gulps a full cup of cool water before refilling another and diving into a rich and hearty breakfast. He talks to the farmhands, invites them over to Daggermark for the next Erastil holiday's service, all the while steeling his nerves for what is likely to be an inevitable encounter with raving and dangerous goblins.
After breakfast, he throws on his hide shirt again and straps his short sword on, joining the others to head out into the field.
Knowing that Tomid's halfling eyes are better suited for these finer details, Silas assists him in trying to find the trail they had set out to find.